


Blood Exchange

by HeadmasterFelix



Series: Kinktober 2018 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Blood Addiction, Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Role Reversal, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix
Summary: Sam and Crowley have an established, secret relationship and also make a habit of feeding each other's addiction. Sam gets his own fill first and demands Crowley beg for his, which the demon king is happy to oblige. Maybe more 'mature' than 'explicit'.Kinktober 2018Prompt: Begging





	Blood Exchange

Locked away in a hotel suite again, hundreds of miles from where Sam's increasingly-distant brother could find them, Crowley laid their supplies out on small table beside the long, plush couch. It was Sam’s turn to go first and his whole body was reacting to the anticipation, from the buzzing in his limbs to the quick beating of his heart and yes, to the stiffening in his Levis.

Once the blood-drawing kit was open, Crowley took a deep breath and loosened his tie so that he could unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt. This part was never particularly pleasant, but it was a small price to pay for getting what he needed, and the effect it had on Sam was positively delicious. He smirked at the way Sam was watching him, hunger and greed in his eyes. He held all the power in this relationship, even on nights like this when the dynamic would seem to reverse. Crowley loved that, loved having a Winchester in his pocket, even if it was the one he hadn’t expected.

With a little nod from Crowley, Sam drew his utility knife from its holster and moved in. He wrapped one strong arm around the demon king’s waist, holding him steady and making the moment all the more intimate as he used the other hand to cut Crowley’s neck. He licked up the beading crimson and that was all it took to make his pupils blow wide and an electric current rush through his entire being, body and soul. He drank with hunger, sucking and teething the small wound to keep it from closing until he’d had his fill.

Crowley got off on this part, not that he’d ever admit it. It was a perfect storm of things, being the instrument of destruction for the inevitable rift this would cause between the Winchesters, luring Sam into darkness, feeding him power and earning loyalty in return. “That’s good, Moose,” he hummed, pleased, as he took the back of Sam’s head in hand and tangled fingers in his hair. “Take all you need, love.”

And Sam did, only pulling back when he was satisfied. Crowley dragged his thumb over the cut, closing it, and then used the same digit to wipe a bit of blood off Sam’s lips and feed it to him. The Winchester sucked and lapped over it, gaze stuck on Crowley’s as he did, the two looking very pleased with themselves and each other. 

“Now, my turn, yeah?” Crowley gestured with a tilt of his head towards the kit on the table.

But as often happened when Sam went first, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Truth be told, Crowley enjoyed this part too. Not that he would ever admit it.

“What, just like that?” Sam’s expression turned to a cruel smirk. “You can do better.” He released Crowley and took a step back, waiting.

The king rolled his eyes and shot Sam a displeased look. “Get a little demon blood in you and suddenly you think you’re Lucifer himself, don’t you? It’s quite good, Moose, it’d work on most, no doubt. But did you miss the part where I’m ruling Hell and he’s locked away in a cage? I’m not exactly _moved_ here. Now make good on your part of the deal,” he demanded. He knew exactly where this was headed, knew that in a moment he’d be at Jolly Green’s mercy and begging and he would love it. But it wasn’t any fun without a bit of resistance.

“Lucifer?” Sam scoffed. “Yeah, like you said, he’s in a cage, and despite his best efforts, I’m right here. So maybe you should be a little more _moved_.”

“You’re here because you got lucky. I’ve met paper bags more clever than you.” Sam’s wit and intellect was what Crowley loved most about him, far exceeded anyone else he’d known with the possible exception of himself, but damn was it fun laying the bait for his own, well, continued fun.

Sam licked his lips, eyes traveling over the king’s form as he savored the moment. Suddenly, with a slight gesture, Crowley was being choked by nothing and forced down to his knees. His power was immense like this, fueled by the most powerful demon still living, and subjugating that same demon was a rush.

It was a rush for Crowley, too. It wouldn’t be if it were real. He wouldn’t go down nearly so easy if someone were truly trying to force him into kneeling or, worse, begging. But he and Sam had been together a while, their roles with each other were clear and unchanging even when they branched out to play like this. Crowley was in charge and it was only his security in that fact that made surrender feel good. He gave a small grunt as he was pushed down, fighting it some but ultimately having it be of no use. Irritation was plain on his face as he looked up, more up than usual, at Sam.

“That’s it. You look so much better on your knees, Crowley. You’re lucky I don’t keep you like this all the time. Now, what was it you were trying to get?”

“Fuck, Moose, you don’t need to be a dick about it, just give me what I’m owed!”

“What you’re _owed_? Mm, see, but I’m not sure you’ve earned it yet. I think what I’ve got is much more valuable than you’re giving it credit for. A little drink from you doesn’t make for an even trade.”

Crowley grumbled and looked away, huffing softly. “Fine. What the hell do you want for it?”

Sam answered by opening up his belt and fly. “Beg me for it,” he added simply.

The king’s eyes flickered to the large bulge in front of his face, then up to Sam’s eyes. “Beg you for what, you walking lamppost?”

Sam chuckled gently in response and palmed himself, length still trapped beneath fabric. “For whatever it is you want most, Crowley. And if you’re good, I might even throw in a bonus for free.”

“I’m the King of Hell. I don’t _beg_ ,” he retorted, increasingly irritated, but it was still all for show. And maybe a bit of a stalling tactic, because at the moment he was having a hard time deciding what it was he wanted most. Sam’s blood or his prick.

“Don’t you? Well, that really is a shame.” A sigh, a shake of his head, and Sam pulled himself out. He was big, more than half hard and growing as he stroked himself. “Because here I am with so much to offer, if only I had the right motivation.”

The sight made his mouth water and his own cock start to stand at attention. “M-moose,” he murmured, eyes fixed on Sam’s movements.

“Come on, Crowley. Don’t be shy. _Beg_ me for it.”

He cleared his throat and made a feeble attempt. “Please, Moose.”

“Please what?” Sam was so not impressed.

“Please, let me…” At the last second, Crowley changed his mind about what he wanted more. “Please, fill the syringe. I need to feel good.”

Sam was still largely unimpressed. “I said ‘beg’, not ‘ask politely.’ You can do better.”

A small whimper escaped Crowley’s throat and he pried his eyes off Sam’s cock to look up at him again, his own expression helpless and wanting. “Please, Sam. Please let me feel good, give me what I need, what you made me need. I’ll take care of you after, I swear it. Anything you want from me, just please. I know you understand how badly I need it.”

That was certainly better. “You’ll take care of me? That is a tempting offer. But I don’t think I need you to take care of me…” Sam was leading and Crowley knew right where to.

“Sam, _please_.” Desperation was growing in his tone and body language. It made Sam’s cock swell further and him groan softly. “I’ll let you _do_ anything to me. However and whatever you want, you can have from me. I won’t resist.”

Sam nearly grinned. “I can just take whatever I want from you? You’re offering that with _this_ ,” he shook his cock once to show what he was referring to, “right in your face? Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were asking to be my fuckdoll for the night, Crowley.”

The king said nothing, just glanced away shyly. He could feel he was winning and the anticipation felt good.

“Is that what you’re asking for, Crowley?” Sam wasn’t going to let it go just yet.

“... Yes,” he admitted.

“Yes, what?” He was fully hard now. The sight was making Crowley needy.

“Yes, sir.”

Sam hummed, pleased, but pushed one more time, voice low and dangerous and making it sound like a threat. “Beg for it.”

Crowley forced himself to look up at Sam’s face again and did as he was told, did as they both wanted. “Please, Sam. _Sir_. Fill my veins with your blood and turn me into your mindless fuckdoll. Use me like I deserve. I need you to put me in my place and make me good for something.” 

It was through trial that Crowley had learned just what Sam wanted to hear when he was like this, and now that he knew, it worked every time. Sam stroked the demon’s hair once and then moved away to scoop up the kit and take a seat on the couch. Spreading his legs, he demanded, “Suck,” and waited until Crowley was complying to start preparing.

A few moments later, Crowley was sitting back and withdrawing the needle from his own arm. Just as Sam’s had, his pupils dilated and his body surged with his new high, but for Crowley it was calm and pleasant, weakness and feelings and humanity crashing through his consciousness. Serving was no longer a game he pretended to want, but a true desire, and as soon as the syringe was safely set back on the table, Crowley was right back at it, licking, sucking, _worshiping_ Sam’s cock and drawing out soft noises from its owner.

“That’s it, good boy, Crowley,” he purred before turning harsh. “Now suck it like you mean it. I’m gonna come before I wreck your hole, don’t make me wreck your throat too.”


End file.
